The Enemy Within
by CounterKnight291543
Summary: The world is at war. Caught up in the fighting, his home destroyed during a Fusion bombing raid, a young Synchro soldier, Yugo, is thrown onto the frontline and into the trenches. A Pawnshipping fanfic (slow burn) set during a fictional wartime AU (I drew inspiration from both world wars, but it has no real link to either). Any dates or events are entirely fictitious.
1. Part I: End Times

Part I, Chapter I: End Times: The Defence of New Domino City

 _13/05/1921 1400 hours_

Yugo turned his hand over and stared at it. It was glistening with sweat. Small wooden splinters dotted his calloused palm, their presence ripening his pale skin a light shade of pink.

 _How… how had it come to this?_

He forcefully clenched his fingers, balling his hand into a fist. He was shaking uncontrollably. Around him, others seemed to be doing the same thing. Yugo hadn't so much as glanced at any of them. He knew they were there though. It was impossible not to given their proximity.

Packed tightly into the back of a truck, there was little room to manoeuvre and even less room to think. Despite this, he was able to take comfort in the one thing that he and the others around him shared.

They were all here for one reason.

 _War._

Six months ago, in the far-off lands of the Fusion Islands, a tumultuous period of social unrest had ended with a military coup that had resulted in the appointment of the islands' new leader. His name was Leo Akaba. Almost immediately, he made his intentions clear by declaring war on all the nations of the old federation, vowing to unite them under his sovereign rule. After a month of preparation and rapid rearmament, he set about doing just that.

The Fusion war machine soon swept across the continent, consuming the Xyz Republic and quickly beginning its assault on the Standard Territories. Few in Synchronia paid their progress any mind, however. Amongst the population of New Domino, the nation's capital, there was little worry that the war would ever reach the city's gates. It was simply unthinkable given the distance between them and their enemies. Yugo had held the same naïve view as everyone else: batten down the hatches, ignore it, and it'll go away. Unfortunately, this storm wasn't to be so easily weathered.

Taking a deep breath, Yugo pulled his hand to his chest and held it there for a moment. He nervously unfurled his fingers and felt for the cold buttons on his coat, looking for a distraction. One of them appeared to have come undone. He tried in vain to refasten it, but no amount of fumbling would do the trick.

The vehicle he was sat in wouldn't allow it. Creeping along at a snail's pace, it should have been a smooth and gentle ride, but ever since they had left New Domino City's interior, the state of the roads had ensured the journey to the outskirts was to be anything but pleasant.

Defeated, Yugo shook his head, causing the steel helmet he was wearing to slide and tip forwards, covering his eyes. He quickly readjusted it and leaned backwards, arching his spine over the metal siding of the truck. He tilted his head up and stared off into the sky above.

It was a beautiful spring afternoon, with barely a cloud in sight. Or at least, it would have been, had it not been for the explosions that peppered the sky overhead. These explosions, he had been quick to learn, were the result of anti-aircraft guns attempting (and for the most part failing) to hit their mark. When they reached a certain altitude, the small shells they fired would burst, erupting into thick clouds of fire and smoke. It was a familiar sight back in the city, and one Yugo had very much gotten used to over the past eight weeks.

Of course, originally, he had had very little knowledge of these things. That was, until…

Yugo screwed his eyes shut, his brow furrowing as he recalled the painful memory of the event that had changed his life forever and brought him face-to-face with the realities of a mechanised war _._

It had been a normal day just like any other. March 12th, 1921.

He had spent the morning lounging around in bed as he always did, before getting up around midday to open up the garage he ran. Working well into the evening, he spent the last few hours of the day fixing up an old motorbike for a friend, blissfully unaware of what was to come. Once he had finished up with cleaning the exhaust system, he had wheeled it out onto the road outside.

Just as he had left the shop…

…it happened.

Emerging from the clouds as if it had materialised out of thin air, a lone aircraft suddenly appeared in the sky above. It wasn't like the others he had seen in the newspapers. It was larger, much larger.

He remembered its wings more than anything else. Long and black like that of a condor, they seemed to go on forever.

It had only been visible for a brief second, its giant shadow cast against the waning light of a waxing moon, but Yugo had known exactly what it was. He'd only heard rumours of its development, whispers of its killing potential, but it was unmistakable when witnessed from the ground.

A heavy bomber.

…and it wasn't alone. There was a pack of them.

Concealed by the cloud cover, they descended upon the city unseen, their presence detectable only by the dull droning of their engines. Yugo had stood, staring up in wonder as they glided through the darkness effortlessly. Even with the desperate rattle of the flak guns and the wailing of the air raid siren, he had remained rooted to the spot.

Explosions had soon begun to flare up on the streets close by, fire rising high into the sky. Above the shrill whistling of bombs being dropped and the blaring of sirens, screams filled the air.

Before he knew it, he was caught in the shadow of one of these steel titans. He had tried to run, to escape the inevitable, but it was no use. It had dropped its payload almost directly in front of him, the explosions sending his body hurtling across the road and knocking him unconscious.

When he finally awoke, hours later, he still lay beside the street- or what was left of it. It had been completely levelled, the houses on either side either crumbling or set ablaze. It had felt like the end of the world.

Yugo remembered the sight of his house and his precious garage. There had been practically nothing left. Both his home and his work lay in ruins, reduced to nothing but rubble and ash in the space of a few hours. With nowhere else to go and with the government stepping up its recruitment programme in response to the attack, he was forced into military service.

He may not have lost his life that day, but he had lost his home, his work and his freedom… almost everything worth living for.

 _Almost_.

A small smile crept onto Yugo's lips as he opened his eyes, his thoughts turning to the only positive outcome of his ordeal.

His sister, Rin, hadn't been home that night. Thankfully, she had been staying with a friend out of town.

Upon her return, she was forced to enlist like Yugo was. Given her natural talent for engineering however, a talent that greatly surpassed Yugo's, she was quickly transferred to the Engineering Corps. Yugo on the other hand had to settle for joining up with the Infantry's 9th Division.

Rin would almost definitely still see action, but much less of it. Had she been forced to stick with the infantry, she would have been on her way to where Yugo was headed right now- the frontline.

"You think this is funny?"

The question cut through the uneasy silence in the back of the truck, hanging uncomfortably in the air, all eyes snapping towards its point of origin. His train of thought broken, Yugo blinked away his memories and quickly turned his head too.

Opposite him, a man with dark skin and dull grey eyes was staring at him expectantly. His hair was a dark pink and his earlobes appeared to be unusually long. Like everyone else in the back of the truck, he wore the standard uniform of the Synchro army, a navy-blue trench coat and tunic accompanied by a pair of light-grey trousers and black boots.

"I asked you a question," the man said, unslinging the rifle from his shoulder and slamming its butt into the bed of the truck. "Is what's happening here a joke to you?" He grasped its muzzle with both hands and leaned on it, awaiting an answer.

"Of course it's not funny," Yugo snapped back, his temper getting the better of him.

"Then why were you smiling?"

"Why should I tell you? It's none of your damn business."

Yugo just wanted to sit quietly and be left to his thoughts for the rest of the journey. He knew what was ahead and what was at stake. He wanted to use this time to try to come to terms with what was going to be asked of him, what he was expected to give in the line of duty. He had spent the eight weeks since he had been forced to join up going through basic training, so he'd hardly had a minute to process the reality of what he was actually being prepared for.

"I just thought I'd ask," the man replied wryly, "seen as we're all going to be dead soon anyway."

There was a muttering amongst the other recruits in the truck. Some shut their eyes and gripped their rifles in quiet dismay. Yugo took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

He wasn't optimistic about his chances. Although he had no idea how the war was being fought and what it was like on the frontline, he knew just from his own experience that it was unlike any conflict of the past. His brief encounter with the Fusion bombers had taught him that. He was afraid to die, of course, but… this fear hadn't yet been realised. His (complete) combat inexperience, for now, had wrapped him in a bubble of blissful ignorance.

"Why do you think they want us new recruits so soon, ey? We're being slaughtered out there." The man directed his observation at Yugo, but he ignored it, shaking his head and focusing on the bumps in the road.

"You know it's-"

"Damon, that's enough."

An older man sat beside him was quick to interrupt. He looked apologetically at Yugo.

"I'm sorry about my friend here, he's something of a fatalist. He doesn't actually know what it's like out there." The one he referred to as a Damon huffed and crossed his arms.

"It's okay," Yugo replied. He relaxed a little at the older man's friendlier tone.

"He's right about one thing though, kid. It's awfully strange of command to be sending recruits to the frontline with so little training, especially in small groups like this. They must be pretty desperate for men out there."

"Is that why you're here?" Yugo asked tentatively.

"Damon and I trained with the 3rd Battalion before they sent us here to the 4th." The man laughed heartily. "Even old ex-soldiers like me can't escape the draft anymore. No-one can." He leaned closer to Yugo. "Look around you."

Yugo glanced to his left and then to his right. He took in the small sea of faces around him. They were a motley bunch, a roughly even split of men and women that varied in almost every way, the only real unifying factor being their relatively young age (and of course their uniforms). They all held the same sombre expression.

"It seems they'll take whoever they can find these days, wouldn't you say?"

Yugo nodded in response. He wasn't about to explain his situation and the reason for him being here. Although, if what the man was saying was true, it was likely he would have found himself in the army sooner rather than later.

"I'm Chojiro by the way." The man extended his hand. "Chojiro Tokumatsu."

Yugo shook it hesitantly.

"I'm Yugo."

There were a few gasps towards the back of the truck. Chojiro looked a little taken aback. A muttering soon sprang up amongst the other recruits. Yugo cursed himself for saying it so loudly. It wasn't his fault his name sounded so much like the word 'fusion'. He grabbed the railing above him and tried to stand, but was forced to sit by the rocking of the truck. Instead, he leaned forwards and shouted so everyone could hear.

"IT'S YUGO, OKAY? YU-GO."

The rest of the journey was quiet after that, with Yugo's outburst apparently warding off any further attempts at conversation.

Eventually, after half an hour or so, the truck came to an abrupt halt. Those who had been staring absentmindedly at the floor were jolted awake. Everyone looked around, confused, wondering if this was indeed their final destination. Yugo swallowed hard as he picked his head up and took in the landscape before him.

Scarred and desolate, it was a depressing sea of brown and black, a wasteland by any description. In the very distance he could make out what looked like a literal wall of barbed wire, but it was what was directly in front of him that drew his immediate attention. Cut into the earth like some sort of oversized ant farm, was what appeared to be an enormous network of trenches and tunnels. It looked as if it went on for miles in every direction, each trench zigzagging left and right, the terrain bending to the will of this intricately weaved web. Pillboxes and dugouts of varying size were scattered throughout, their presence defined only by the small mounds of earth piled on top of them. In amongst the straighter channels, closer to the wall of wire, Yugo could see hundreds of soldiers milling around, the tops of their helmets only just stopping short of the trench's parapet.

"Everybody off!" came a loud shout from behind the truck. Everyone quickly attempted to clamber off, stepping over one another in a rush to see where they would be heading. Yugo tightened the belt around his waist that held his pack and a few pockets of ammunition. Grabbing his gas mask from beside him, he slung his rifle's strap over his shoulder and made for the back of the truck. After waiting for the others to finish disembarking, he jumped down onto the sun-baked earth below. There was a man waiting impatiently, pencil and notebook in hand.

"Only ten of you?" he asked rhetorically, scribbling away on the paper. "Atlas isn't going to be happy."

Yugo paid the man's comments little mind. He was too busy staring at the trenches before him. He could hear the faint sound of rifles being discharged in the distance, along with the light rumbling of shells detonating somewhere along the line.

 _This didn't seem so bad,_ he thought to himself. He wondered if Rin was fairing any better, or worse, wherever she was. He made a mental note to send her a letter as soon as possible.

"Alright, follow me!" the man shouted to the group, turning and quickly stepping towards what appeared to be a makeshift entrance to the first line of trenches.

"Wait!" the one named Damon yelled after him, the whole group breaking into a light jog to catch up. "Is this it? Is this the battlefield?"

"Where else would we be?" The man led Yugo and the others down a slope flanked by a few corrugated sheets of metal before turning a corner.

"But where are all the guns… and our tanks?" Damon asked frantically.

Their guide (and driver) led them deeper through the network of trenches, the walls quickly changing from dirt to a combination of old plywood and sandbags.

"We passed our last artillery battery ten klicks back, about an hour ago… and we haven't had tanks up this side of the line for the past month. If you have any more questions wait until you've been assigned to your platoons."

After passing along an angled channel that was busy with messengers and couriers, Yugo and the group found themselves being led through another trench that was filled with soldiers talking and smoking. Eventually coming to a set of stairs, they were led downward into a small, well-fortified dugout. Yugo was the first to enter. He was ushered in by the man who had driven them here and told to stand to attention.

The room he had entered was uncomfortably quiet. The only noise to be heard was the light tapping of the telephone operator in the far corner, the man's fingers working furiously to send some sort of message along the line, presumably in Morse code. Aside from the operator, the dugout had two other occupants. One, a man with spiky orange hair and welcoming grey eyes, stood leaning against the far wall, his arms folded. The other stood by a round wooden table in the centre of the room, inspecting what appeared to be a map. He was tall and thin with pointed blonde hair, his uniform a pristine white and blue.

Once the group had lined up in two rows of five, with Yugo at the very front, the man with the blonde hair looked up from his map. His mouth was set into an irritated scowl, his purple eyes burning with unwarranted indignation.

"Are these the replacements?" he asked curtly, directing his question at their driver. His voice was loud and fiery. The driver nodded timidly. With a wave of his hand, the blonde man dismissed him.

 _Replacements._ Yugo felt deeply unsettled by that word. He'd be filling a dead man's boots… How long would it be before someone was doing the same to him?

The man sauntered around the table and stood directly in front of the group. "Listen up, because I'm only going to say this once." Yugo composed himself and straightened up his posture. "My name is Jack Atlas and I'm the Captain of A Company. This part of the line you're standing in now belongs to me, as do all of you." He began to pace back and forth, eyeing up each individual as he went. "For those of you wondering why you're here… well, that's simple. Those that came before you, the men and women who died in our glorious push for victory, were weak." There was a number of gasps as the Captain balled a fist and punched at his own palm. "They lacked the strength to get the job done, and it has cost us dearly. I expect you all, as privates under my command, to show a little more backbone, to be strong and fearless, and above all, to demonstrate to the world the true power of the Synchro people."

He began to walk amongst them, inspecting their uniforms and stopping to read their expressions. Yugo watched as he eventually came to a stop… directly in front of him.

"What's your name boy?" Jack asked, staring him down.

Yugo swallowed nervously. He'd already been through this once today.

"Private... Yugo, Sir."

Jack stared at him with a stony expression, before suddenly bursting into laughter.

"You have to be joking?" he cried, laughing right in Yugo's face. " _Yūgō_? Shouldn't you be fighting for the other side?"

"It's Yu-go, Sir." Yugo bit his tongue, trying to suppress his temper.

Jack's grin quickly twisted into a frown. "Alright then, _Yu-go_ , tell me, why are you here?"

The answer was apparent after his little speech, but Yugo found himself struggling to come up with the correct response. He actually had a number of reasons for being here, one of which he hadn't quite come to terms with.

 _Revenge_.

He didn't want to admit to it, but ever since that fateful day eight weeks ago, he had wanted nothing more than to make someone pay for destroying his home and his livelihood. Part of him was glad that he had been forced into military service. It gave him the opportunity to take the vengeance he sought after…

 _…_ _but at what cost? His morals? His humanity? His life?_

"I'm here to defend our city and kill Fusion soldiers, Sir," Yugo answered, the unequivocal nature of his own remark taking him by surprise.

"Ah! The kid's got fire! I like that," Jack grinned back at him. "However…" His expression changed in an instant, his smile quickly fading into a judgmental frown. He grabbed Yugo by the collar and looked him dead in the eye. Yugo resisted the urge to struggle.

"That isn't just what this is about. War is a clash of souls as well as steel, we respect our enemy, even if they don't respect us." He gripped Yugo's collar tightly. "It's a showcase of our strength, but also of our integrity. Did you not hear-"

"Alright Jack that's enough for one day, don't you think? Leave him be." The interruption came from the back of the room, the man with the orange hair speaking up.

"That's Captain Atlas to you, Crow." Releasing his hold on Yugo's collar, Jack span around and grunted. "And last time I checked, I'm the one in charge here."

Crow appeared to roll his eyes, which only seemed to anger him more. He turned back towards Yugo. "Alright _Yu-go_ , seen as Lieutenant Hogan over there thinks he knows better than I do, he's going to be your platoon leader from now on." Crow smiled at Yugo, visibly irritating him further. "And there should be plenty of time for you two to get to know each other tonight, because I have a _very_ special mission for yourself and a lucky few in 2nd Platoon."

Crow's face dropped. "You don't mean…"

"You know exactly what I mean, Lieutenant." The Captain's smirk grew wider. He let go of Yugo and straightened his collar out. "And young Yugo here is going to play a big part in accomplishing this mission."

"Jack you can't, he only just got here. It's way too dangerous!"

"Nonsense. This will be a great opportunity for him to gain some valuable experience and learn what it means to be a soldier, under _your_ tutelage of course."

Crow tried to protest further, but he was shut down by Jack's stern voice. "I want twelve men, including yourself and Yugo, ready to go at 0100 hours. You'll get further details at 1900. As for the rest of you recruits, go and wait in the support trench, you'll be assigned to your platoons in due course." He nonchalantly waved his hand. "You're all dismissed."

Yugo wasn't sure what was happening. He had no idea what he'd just been signed up for. Some kind of special mission? Whatever it was, Crow hadn't been pleased about his upcoming participation in it.

As the rest of the recruits were filing out, Crow came forward and took Yugo by the arm. He pulled him up the steps and out of the dugout, into the nearby support trench. He stopped once they were out of earshot. He shook his head.

"I'm sorry man. I really am. That bastard's always been like this, but he's gone too far this time…"

"It's okay, it's fine." Yugo didn't know what else to say. He was still very confused.

"How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

Crow shut his eyes and dragged a hand over his face. "Fuck…" he whispered, his voice laced with frustration.

"What? What is it?"

Shaking his head once more, he took a deep breath. "It's nothing Yugo, it's fine. Don't worry yourself about it." He smiled tentatively, although it was evident in his expression that he was unsettled by something. "You're under my wing now anyway, so I'll make sure you're safe out there…" He gestured towards the angled trench he had passed through earlier. "Let's go and meet the rest of 2nd Platoon."

Yugo was appreciative of Crow's friendly tone, but he wanted to know more about what was happening tonight. He held his tongue and followed him anyway. After a short walk, they turned a few corners, coming out into another, much more damaged trench topped by barbed wire.

"I'm Lieutenant Crow Hogan by the way, if you didn't catch it before. I lead 2nd Platoon."

Yugo wasn't really listening. He could smell something awful and it was making him feel a little sick. Every few breaths he could smell it, a mix of filth and rotten meat. It was a putrid stench that had him almost gagging as they came to a tiny dugout in the wall, a few men huddled inside playing cards.

"Shinji." Crow greeted one of the men with a slap on the back, before turning to Yugo. "This is Yugo. He'll be part of your section from today. He's new so be patient with him, okay?"

The man named Shinji climbed out of the hole and smiled. "Sure thing Crow, we are down a man after all."

"Yugo, this will be your Section Commander, Lance Corporal Shinji Weber."

Yugo reached out a hand, which Shinji eagerly shook.

"The hands of working man, I like it. You'll fit in nicely around here."

Yugo nodded impatiently. He wanted answers more than anything right now. He'd met too many people today and been given too few answers.

Just as he was about to ask about what was happening tonight, Crow nodded at Shinji in an attempt to catch his attention.

"Shinji, can I have word?" he asked, his voice a little quieter now.

Shinji nodded and followed him a bit further down the trench before coming to a stop. Yugo could see them talking from where he stood. Crow had his head in his hands and Shinji was shaking his fist furiously. They were speaking quietly, but he could hear them both swearing and cursing nonetheless.

Yugo had had enough. He ran over to them, his boots clacking loudly on the duckboards underfoot.

"Please tell me what's going on," he pleaded, "I have no idea what's happening. What's this mission the Captain was talking about?"

Shinji and Crow glanced at each other nervously. They looked forlorn, as if something terrible had happened, or was about to. Shinji nodded hesitantly at Crow, who turned to Yugo.

"Like I said I'm sorry, but… there's only one thing it could be."

"What?!"

"A trench raid."


	2. The Other Half

Chapter II: The Other Half

 _13/05/1921 2100 hours_

Yuri stood, his back straight and his arms folded, looking down at the pitiful sight before him.

On the trench floor, lying face down in a large puddle, was a man.

He was coughing and spluttering, his whole body convulsing as he gasped for air. Only half of his face was visible, and it was badly beaten. His cheek and eye socket were swollen beyond recognition and coloured a sickening shade of blue, the orbital bones cracked and useless. The rest of his face was partially submerged under the murky brown water, making breathing even more of a struggle.

 _Pathetic._

"You know, I really thought we weren't going to see any rain today," Yuri remarked passively, holding out his hand and attempting to catch some raindrops.

The man at his feet could only choke out an indistinct grunt in response.

"It's a real shame." Yuri knelt down and placed a hand on his head, his long fingers curling around the back of his skull. Without a change in expression, he violently forced the man's head into the water and held it there. He began to thrash and eventually gurgle as he involuntarily swallowed a lungful of filthy water.

Yuri pulled his head up and sighed. The man wretched and tried to take in as many breaths of fresh air as possible.

"We've been at this for what, half an hour now? Your courage is admirable, but as much as I enjoy talking to Synchro vermin like yourself, I have other more pressing matters to attend to." He pushed his head down once more, before pulling it back up a few seconds later. With his free hand, he pointed to the top of the trench. "See that there? A few hundred metres in that direction lies freedom. All you have to do is tell me what high command is planning, and I'll let you go back to your line. I promise."

 _As if._

The man looked to be considering his offer, but in a surprising act of defiance, he chose instead to spit a mixture of blood and dirt at Yuri, coating his uniform.

Yuri's eye twitched with indignation. There was nothing he hated more than being defied so openly. It showed bad manners, insolence and an aversion to discipline. Back in the academy, he had been taught that disobedience should be met only by a closed fist. A Fusion soldier should embody discipline, embrace conformity and become a paradigm of obedience, a herald of Leo Akaba's light.

Yuri breathed deep to quell his anger. Rising to his feet, he straightened out his uniform before nonchalantly pushing a few strands of purple and lilac hair behind his ear. Then, with his composure restored, he reached across his body and placed a hand on the holster that hung neatly from his belt. He unclipped it and grasped the handle of the weapon it housed. It was cold to the touch, but its wooden texture had a warmly familiar feel. He yanked it free and held it up beside his head.

His trusty service revolver, _Venom_.

Its barrel glistened in the fading sun, rays of light catching the droplets of rain that clung desperately to its metal body.

"You'll be… number twenty-seven," Yuri mused, inspecting the etchings on his weapon's handle. There were tally marks carved into the wood, each one denoting a confirmed kill by his hand.

The man at his feet suddenly reached out in desperation, grabbing weakly at Yuri's boot. He kicked it off and laughed. He found it funny how people changed when they knew it was their time, how they'd try anything to cling to life no matter how hopeless the situation.

With his last ounce of strength, the wounded soldier rolled over onto his back and stared up at him with pleading eyes.

Yuri cocked the hammer of his revolver and coolly lowered his arm, pointing the gun at the man's forehead.

"By order of the Fusion state and its illustrious leader, I hereby relieve you of your life."

He pulled the trigger.

The shot rang out through the trenches like a crack of thunder in the rain, dispelling the relative quiet of the early evening.

The man at his feet lay still. Yuri felt nothing as he watched the life slowly drain from his face, his dead eyes now glassy and cold. Blood trickled from the hole in his forehead and dripped lazily into the puddle below, turning it a dark shade of crimson.

Yuri pushed his weapon back into its holster and stood looking over the nameless corpse of the Synchro soldier in front of him.

Just like the twenty-six that had come before them, this individual was nothing special. They were all the same, every single person from this worthless nation, lifeless piles of flesh and bone that held no real earthly value. The only thing that separated them from animals, was their allegiance. These people had the ability to consciously choose whether they would fight against him and his country. They had chosen wrong. They were enemies of the state, and that's all that mattered to him.

Yuri let out a low growl as he noticed a splatter of blood on his immaculate uniform, the purple fabric discolouring as the stain spread. In his eyes, this was the only downside of killing someone, the mess it created afterwards.

"Yuri!"

His attention was quickly taken away from his uniform as a man rounded the corner of the trench at speed. He had curly red hair and a pair of frantic green eyes, his mouth turned up at the corners into an excited smile. He was clutching what looked to be a scrap of paper.

He stopped just beside Yuri and gazed down at the mess he had made. His smile quickly faded into a slight frown.

"Shit Yuri… couldn't you have-"

"That is not how you address your superior, Mackfield," Yuri interrupted. "I am your Lieutenant, and you will address me as such."

"Oh… yes, of course. My apologies Lieutenant."

"And stand to attention, Sergeant. We're not at the academy anymore."

He responded immediately by pushing his feet together and standing bolt upright. Extending his arm and raising his hand to his brow, he rigidly saluted his superior.

 _Useless as always Dennis_ , Yuri thought as he shook his head in contempt.

"At ease," he finally said, to which Dennis responded by loosening his shoulders and relaxing his posture.

"So where'd you find him?" He pointed at the corpse eagerly.

"Knowing my penchant for getting answers, Major Tyler sent him down here for a chat." Yuri cracked his knuckles impatiently. "Was there something you needed, Mackfield?"

"Oh, yes. My apologies Sir." Dennis unfolded the piece of paper in his hand and held it up for Yuri to see. "Orders from HQ."

 _Finally._

Yuri felt a spark of excitement go off in his chest. It had been weeks since he had last heard those words.

He turned to face Dennis, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

"What are our orders then, Sergeant?"

Dennis read the note as quickly as he could to prevent it from getting wet, his eyes furiously darting back and forth along the page.

"It looks as though Command has learned of a possible Synchro assault on our section of the line."

"When?"

"Tonight. 0100 hours."

 _Perfect._

"What kind of assault?"

"A small-time raid by the looks of it, they estimate numbers between twelve and twenty."

Yuri's grin twisted into a frown. Raids of this kind only ever went one way when Command had prior knowledge of the attack.

"A job for our machine gun teams I presume?"

"No, actually. HQ wants us to counterattack." Yuri's frown quickly became a smirk as Dennis continued reading, this time word-for-word. _"A team of Lieutenant Yuri's choosing is to advance across No Man's Land at approximately 2300 hours and take up defensive positions eighty yards south south-west of your current position. Aerial reconnaissance has shown the position in question to be highly defensible. You are to repel the Synchro advance and counterattack accordingly, the primary objective being the capture of any soldier ranked Lieutenant or higher."_

Yuri's hand shot to his side. He grasped at his weapon's holster excitedly, his smirk becoming a devilish grin as he imagined how many marks he'd be adding to its handle by the end of the night.

He took one final look at the pool of blood on the ground. "This should be fun," he quipped, turning on his heel ready to leave.

"Your orders, Sir?" Dennis appeared beside him.

"Gather what's left of 4th Platoon…"

He glanced at the top of the trench, a maniacal look in his eye.

"…tonight, we go hunting."


	3. Trojan

Chapter III: Trojan

 _14/05/1921 0045 hours_

Yugo sat, hunched up, his knees pulled tightly to his chest. He was crouched in a tiny dugout cut into the trench wall, the rain beating down mercilessly outside. So relentless was the downpour that, even in here, the ground had been churned into a sludgy mess, creating a fetid quagmire of mud and silt.

It should have been intolerable, but Yugo appeared unphased. He sat perfectly still, one hand clasped around his knees, the other gripping his rifle. Huddled beside him, draped in their waterproof ground sheets, were the barely visible figures of Crow and Shinji.

All sat shoulder-to-shoulder, they couldn't have been any closer together, but thanks to the blackout, not one of the three could actually see each other. Their world was one of permanent darkness, with the sun setting long ago, seemingly abandoning them. Thunderclouds now blanketed the midnight skies, the faint glow of the moon well hidden behind a thick veil of rain and water.

Yugo didn't seem to care. His mind was elsewhere, just as it had been for the past few hours. It had taken leave of his body, travelling back in time to a place where everything was back to normal, untouched by the war.

He thought of his home. His work. His sister. In his mind he was able to see and hear them, to feel their presence once more. The warmth of his home, the energy of his work, the smile of his sister… they all came to him so easily, as if they were right there in front of him.

"Yugo."

"Yugo…"

"Yugo are you awake?"

Yugo inhaled sharply as he felt a strong hand grab him by the shoulder. He snapped back to reality, all thoughts of home evaporating from his mind as he was shaken violently.

"I'm awake, I'm awake," he whispered, reaching around in the dark with his free hand to see who had grabbed him.

"Thought we'd lost you there for second," came the voice beside him. It was Crow.

Yugo took a deep breath. Fumbling aimlessly, he pulled his ground sheet out from under him and fastened it around his neck like a cape. He tried buttoning the collar, but found his hands to be unsteady. He was shaking again.

"It's okay to be scared Yugo," Crow said softly, feeling the jittering of his arm through the contact of his shoulder.

"I'm not scared," he half-lied. In truth, Yugo didn't know what he felt.

Part of him still burned with righteous anger, to retaliate against the Fusion menace that had destroyed his home and left his life in ruins. But… another part of him _was_ afraid. It was the unknown, and the fear of not knowing what was ahead that really scared him. He had no idea what lay beyond their trenches, past the barbed wire. He'd only heard whispers from amongst the other soldiers, hushed murmurings of unspeakable horrors that seemed almost too gruesome to be true.

"It's almost time," Crow whispered, lighting a match under the cover of the sheet and checking his pocket watch. He quickly extinguished it.

Shinji sighed angrily beside him. "We shouldn't fucking be here," he cursed, trying his best to stay quiet. "This is Jack's fault. What the hell is he thinking sending us out there so soon after the last raid? Fucking topsider."

Crow rolled his eyes. "He's an asshole sure, but he isn't a topsider."

"Is that what they're saying? It's pretty obvious Crow, he couldn't be any more up his own ass. Him and his kind are the reason we're here now, freezing to death in a hole in the ground. It's their fault we're in this war to begin with, dragging us into foreign conflicts we have no business in."

"They declared war on us, remember? Plus Akaba would have come for us even if he hadn't."

"Guys…?" Yugo spoke up, effectively ending their conversation.

"You okay?" Crow whispered, turning his head.

"Yeah... I just want to know something before, you know…" Yugo swallowed hard as Crow leaned in closer in an attempt to hear him over the rain. "…what's it like out there?"

There was an uneasy silence as Crow and Shinji ruminated quietly over Yugo's question.

"Honestly Yugo, it's not good." Shinji sighed. "Crow and I have been here since the beginning, and we've… we've only ever gone over the top once. We were hoping never to have to again."

"What happened?" Yugo asked tentatively. There was a clap of thunder outside.

"It was about two months ago, back when we were with 1st Platoon. As part of the Spring Offensive, we were ordered to go over the top, push forward and secure their trenches… the idea was to break a hole in the line, where it was supposed to be weakest."

"The only thing weak that day was our intel." Crow continued on from Shinji, his fist clenched into a tight ball. "We were the first wave and we didn't even make it halfway. Their machine guns cut us to pieces. Shinji and I barely made it back. Fifty-two of us went over the top that day, three came back alive."

Yugo suddenly felt a lot worse. "But… but this is different, right? It's only a small raid tonight, isn't it?"

"Makes no difference kid. If they spot us, we're all dead either way." Shinji crawled from their hole and rose to his feet. Crow followed suit, but not before giving Yugo's shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

Yugo hardly noticed. All he could feel now was the thud of his heart in his chest. Everything else seemed irrelevant. It pounded steadily, its valves and muscles labouring to keep him alive. He could feel every beat, every thud, every drop of blood…

 _For how much longer would it go on beating?_

Yugo swallowed hard and took a deep breath. Crawling out from the hole, he grabbed his pack and pulled on his helmet. Rain began bouncing off it immediately, water dripping lazily from its steel rim.

Crow pulled a scrap of paper from his coat pocket and set about unfolding it. Dropping to one knee, he finished doing so and spread it across the sodden earth. He lit another match and held it close to the paper. It was a map.

"Everyone," he hissed, his voice cutting through the rain. "Get around here, now."

Yugo stood beside him and watched as eleven silhouettes emerged from the darkness, clambering and crawling from holes cut into the trench wall. They gathered around Crow in a small huddle, pushing Yugo to the front. He recognised some of them from before, namely a certain older looking gentleman he had met on his journey here.

In the dim light, Crow recognised him too, along with the frightened face of a young man standing beside him.

"What are you two doing here?" he asked, keeping his voice low.

"Private Tokumatsu, reporting, Sir." Chojiro gestured towards Damon. "Captain Atlas requested we both join your squad for tonight's raid, he said we could use the experience."

Shinji cursed, all too loudly. Crow simply shook his head.

"Fine," he conceded with a sigh, "just stay in formation and do as we say." Extinguishing the match and refolding the map, he stood up and addressed the small group of soldiers. "Alright. As you already know, the Captain has tasked us with raiding the enemy trench tonight. Our objective is to secure intel on any Fusion activities in the area, so grab whatever you can when we make it in there. Letters, diaries, papers- anything that looks official."

The group nodded back at him.

Yugo shivered. _If we make it_ , he thought despondently.

Crow continued. "We'll move in two teams of seven, with two partial diamonds in each. We're heading for a tank wreck fifty or so yards into No Man's Land, and from there we'll continue northwards until we hit their trenches. It's going to be dark and it's going to be muddy, so watch your footing out there. Always stay within visual range of the man beside you. Stick by him, and he'll stick by you. Keep low and quiet. If we can manage that, we might actually get lucky and make it out of there alive." He pulled his helmet on and unholstered his pistol. "Yugo, Damon, you're with me. Chojiro you're with Shinji. The rest of you know what to do. Good luck people."

A hushed murmuring immediately started up amongst the group. It was quickly quelled however as Crow began to climb one of the ladders haphazardly placed along the trench wall. He stopped halfway and turned to Shinji, who was doing the same. "You bring that smoke just in case?" he asked. Shinji whispered an affirmative _yes_ and carried on climbing, the both of them soon disappearing over the top of the wall.

Tentatively, Yugo made his way to the nearest ladder. With shaking hands, he grabbed a hold and clambered to the top, his boots slipping up on every rung. It was only a climb of around six feet, but it took him long enough that he could hear grumbles coming from the soldiers below him.

Eventually reaching the top, he peered over the thin layer of sandbags, not really knowing what to expect. He was left guessing, however, as out in front of him extended an almost impenetrable darkness that obscured the entire landscape. Now even more unsure than before, he pulled himself over and lay flat on his belly. He grimaced as he felt water begin to seep through his clothes.

Not wanting to get left behind, he began to leopard crawl forwards, his rifle cradled between his arms. In near total blackness, all he could do was listen for the movements ahead of him and pray he was moving in the right direction.

After a few metres of rushed crawling, he clocked a noise close by, his ears already straining to make sense of it. It sounded like the rustling of barbed wire, but he couldn't be certain. He hastily changed direction, crawling onwards towards its source. As he neared, it dawned on him that the sound was indeed barbed wire. Specifically, the distinct _clinking_ sound of it being cut by a rusty pair of wire cutters.

Finally spotting movement in front of him, he reached out a hand and blindly pawed at what he assumed was either Crow or Shinji. Grabbing onto what could only be an arm, he dragged himself forwards until he was up alongside it.

"Wire's cut," came a whisper from beside him. It was Crow.

Yugo felt Crow's arm pull away from him. He panicked and tried to grab for it again, but his hand came back empty. Tears welled in his eyes as he realised how alone he really was out here. Desperation gripping his chest, he crawled after him, trying his best to follow Crow's increasingly faint silhouette. He was lagging behind him, the water and uneven ground causing him to struggle.

Thankfully, Crow had come to a stop just ahead. Yugo swallowed his anxiety and pressed on, eventually making it back alongside him.

It wasn't just Crow he found however. To his relief, there were several other outlines of bodies visible around him. He knew they were alive because he could hear their quick, shallow breathing. That brought him comfort, at least, for a moment.

"We should be in the tank's shadow," Crow whispered to the group, his voice as low as possible. "We move on foot from here. Keep close and stay in formation." Rising to his feet, Crow began to walk tentatively forwards, his back hunched and his head low.

Yugo watched as the others got up and followed him. He tried getting up too, but a crack of thunder overhead had him back on the ground immediately. The resulting fork of lightning lingered in the night's sky, momentarily illuminating his surroundings. He glimpsed the group up ahead, and of course the hulking mass of steel they were heading to.

With the lightning quickly disappearing, all he was left with was a mental photograph of what'd he seen. He hurriedly got to his feet and ran, aiming for his comrades. The earth squelched underfoot as he traversed ground even worse than before, his boots sticking and skidding in the mud.

There was another flash of lightning and roll of thunder, giving him another glimpse of the group. They were almost at the tank wreck, but… something was wrong. They were too close together and they weren't moving, as if something was holding them up.

Yugo ran on, quickly catching up to the huddled group. He could barely make them out in the near total darkness, but he recognised their hushed voices. They were members of Crow's squad, and from the looks of it, they were in trouble.

"We have to get him out of there," said one voice, presumably Crow.

"We can't move him, we'll just have to leave him here," said another.

"That isn't an option."

"Then what are we supposed to do?"

The voices were getting louder and more irate.

"We're not just going to leave him here. I'll take him back myself if I have to."

"And leave the rest of us just sitting here?"

Yugo approached slowly, mindful of startling them and making even more noise. Squinting, his eyes having gotten used to the dark, he could now make out a body lying on the ground between the huddle.

"What's happening?" he whispered, his panicky question directed at who he assumed was Crow.

"It's Damon," he replied. "He slipped. His ankle is busted up pretty bad."

"We're fucked," another voice beside him added.

"Not yet we're not." Crow gestured at two members of the team crouched around Damon's body. "You two are going to take him back while the rest of us carry on. Just make sure you're quick and quiet about it."

Deep down, Yugo wished he was the one lying on the ground. He'd have given anything to return to the relative safety of their trench right now.

He watched on as one of the men clumsily grabbed hold of Damon's arms and the other his legs. He was about to ask Crow if he could maybe help them, but he was stopped in his tracks when the man attempting to carry Damon's lower half slipped, dropping his bad leg to the floor.

Damon let out an almighty scream, his ankle twisting even further as it hit the ground.

Everyone froze.

Yugo's heart leapt into his mouth, the pit of his stomach coiling in fear. It had only been for a brief moment, but the stillness and quiet of No Man's Land had been broken, and he knew what that meant for him and the other soldiers out there. He tried calming himself as he stood there, his brain telling him they were safe in the shadow of the tank wreck. The enemy were sure to be asleep anyway, he told himself, they couldn't possibly be in any real danger this close to their own line.

He was wrong.

Suddenly, and without warning, there was a bright white flash high in the night sky. Yugo shielded his eyes, the light almost blinding him.

"Shit! Where did that come from?!" a few of the men shouted, oblivious.

Yugo looked up to discover the light still hanging there, its luminous glow floodlighting the entire area, a thin trail of smoke following it from the ground. It had come from behind the tank. He followed the trail down to the wreck, his heart thundering in his chest.

His eyes widened.

Either side of the tank, lay two machine guns. Inside, their barrels protruding through small holes in its armour, lay two more. Behind each one, a purple uniform.

Yugo stood, rooted to the spot. He couldn't move, he couldn't breathe… he couldn't think. Images of home flashed across his mind. His sister. His house. His motorcycle. Rin had always told him the only way he was going to die was on his bike, that each crash or fall was only tempting fate, buying him time, postponing the inevitable. He had believed her. How wrong they had been.

He shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and waited...

"Open fire!" came the shout from beside the tank.

This was it.

A cacophony of noise erupted from in and around the wreck, machine guns cracking and booming in unison to create a roaring storm of steel and lead. Bullets shrieked from their barrels, whistling through the air towards him.

He felt something hit him. It was as if someone had punched him in the gut. Pain shot up his chest, wrenching the air from his lungs and knocking him to the ground.

It was only when he opened his eyes did he realise what had happened. He sat up and looked around, confused as to why he wasn't dead. From the looks of it, he had fallen behind what was left of a toppled tree trunk, its hardened bark now shielding him from the hail of bullets. Beside him lay Crow, his face splattered with blood.

Yugo frantically checked himself over, unbuttoning his coat to inspect his wound. To his surprise, there was nothing there. Crow must have pulled him to the ground, he realised, saving him. But what about the others?

He turned to his right, looking for any sign of them. There was nothing, except…

Yugo screamed.

Motionless on the ground, where he had stood only seconds earlier, lay the bodies of his former squad members. Mangled and disfigured, they barely resembled human beings anymore. Some had limbs missing, their arms or legs sliced clean off at the bone. Others were simply peppered with holes, guts and viscera spilling from the gaping wounds. All wore the same horrified expression, their eyes glassy and cold, mouths twisted in a look of sheer terror.

Yugo started to vomit, the sight too gruesome for him to handle.

Too caught up in what was before him, he didn't notice the guns stop firing. What he also didn't notice, was the squelching of boots now heading his way.

He soon felt another sharp pain, this time much more intense, as one of those boots connected with his side, kicking him over onto his back. He looked up through blurry eyes, tears streaming down his face. Before him stood a man, his face a picture of indifference. He had his rifle pointed directly at his chest, bayonet fixed and ready.

"Please," Yugo begged, "please don't kill me." He raised his hands defensively, as if it would make a difference. To his surprise, the man lowered his rifle.

Yugo blinked back at him, astonished at this apparent act of compassion. Was he actually going to spare him? He didn't get a chance to find out.

From behind him came an almighty roar, startling both Yugo and his attacker. Leaping out of a small crater was Shinji, followed by six others. The man fumbled with his rifle, trying desperately to adjust its sights and pick a target. It was too late however. Shinji was on him in a flash, kicking it from his hands and grabbing him by the throat. The man fought back, prying his hands from his neck. He threw a retaliatory punch, but Shinji was quick to dodge, sending the man sprawling into the mud. Not wasting his opportunity, Shinji leapt on him, pinning him to the ground and knocking his helmet from his head. He looked around for a weapon. Not finding one, he pulled off his own helmet and raised it into the air.

Yugo watched on in horror as, without a moment's hesitation, he violently brought it down onto the man's skull. There was a cracking sound as it split open, the rim of Shinji's helmet cutting well into the bone. The man howled in pain, his body going limp. Shinji wasn't done however. Taking it in both hands, he yanked his helmet free and brought it crashing down once again. He did this five more times, each strike more brutal than the last. By the time he was finished, all that remained of the soldier's head was a bloody, red pulp.

Meanwhile, the Fusion machine guns had started up again, bullets now chewing up the dirt beside them. Yugo, now paralysed with fear, felt a hand grab his collar. His body not responding, the hand pulled him backwards until he was back slumped against the log, safely behind cover. He managed to turn his head enough to see Crow staring back at him, his face still streaked with blood.

Shinji and the others soon joined them, diving behind cover just in time to escape the recommencing barrage. He quickly crawled up between the pair and looked them over.

"Either of you hit?" he asked.

Yugo looked back at him vacantly, his gaze set in a thousand-yard stare. It was as if he had become disconnected from reality, his mind unable to process the impersonal brutality he had just been forced to witness. He wanted to scream, to cry, to hide from everything he had seen… but he couldn't. He felt numb inside, as if his very soul had taken leave of his body. He couldn't feel a thing anymore. Even the sight of Shinji, fragments of brain and bone splattered across his face and uniform, had no effect on him. He felt nothing.

"No, we're fine. Just a little shaken up is all," Crow answered, wiping the blood from his eyes.

"Did anyone else make it?"

Crow glanced at the pile of bodies beside them and shook his head.

"Shit. They knew we were coming." Shinji raised his head slightly in an effort to peer over their fallen log, but he was quickly forced down again when bullets started to fly his way. Even in his current state, Yugo could feel each one ping off its toughened bark, showering them all in splinters of wood. "We can't stay here!" Shinji shouted, struggling to be heard over the noise.

"You're right," Crow shouted back. "You still have that smoke?"

Shinji pulled a small canister from his back pocket.

"Good. We'll use the mortars to cover our retreat." Crow turned to what was left of the group. "Once the bombs start falling, we move. Don't look back, just run as fast as you can." He turned to Yugo. "Yugo."

Yugo didn't respond.

Grabbing him by the collar, he shook him violently and looked him dead in the eye. "Yugo you need to get a grip. I know it's scary and everything's fucked up, but… if you're not focused you're not going to make it back alive."

 _Alive_.

The word struck a chord within him, his mind starting to refocus. He blinked back at Crow and nodded. He still felt numb, his senses dulled, but something was different. His brain was no longer acting with fear, but with instinct. In his head he now knew only thing- he had to survive.

Crow nodded. "Do it Shinji."

Moving to a crouching position behind the log, he pulled the pin on the canister and threw it as far as he could. "You'd think that flare they sent up would have been enough for those mortar boys to start firing," he quipped, laying back down to dodge some more incoming fire.

"They only fire on designated targets, you know that."

"When do we move?" Yugo spoke up for the first time in a while, his voice a little shaky.

"Once our boys have clocked the smoke from that grenade, our mortar crews should start firing on their position. Once the guns stop, we move," Crow replied swiftly. "Should be any second now."

Sure enough, with the red smoke from Shinji's grenade now billowing into the sky, a shrill whistling sound could soon be heard over the rattle of the machine guns.

"Here they come!"

Yugo could see them gliding through the air, thin balloon-shaped shells arcing their way through the sky and disappearing into the clouds. They reappeared again seconds later, their trajectory shifting, gravity pulling them to the ground. He listened as they started to rain down upon the Fusion soldiers, whistles turning to screams as they hit the ground and exploded, showering the men with shrapnel. Each explosion was ear-splittingly loud, giving Yugo reason to believe they were a lot closer than they should have been.

"They're too damn close!" Crow shouted, holding his helmet down on his head. An explosion just in front of the log seemed to confirm this, the noise and resulting shower of dirt causing everyone to flinch.

"It doesn't matter, the guns have stopped!" Shinji pointed out. "We need to move now!"

The Fusion machine gunners were either dead or retreating, finally giving them the break they needed.

"Alright. Move! Move!" Crow leapt from the dirt and to his feet. "Follow me and don't look back!" He set off running towards their trenches, what was left of their raid party closely following behind him. Yugo was last to his feet. He started to run, but within the first few steps, he realised something was wrong. He couldn't move his leg properly. He tried to hobble on, but it was no use. Pain shot up his ankle, rooting him to the spot.

"No… no no no!" he cried, tears welling in his eyes. He could see Crow and the others running ahead, his only chance at escape slipping away from him. He glanced behind him. The barrage of mortar fire still raged on, explosions peppering the position and slowly creeping backwards towards him. Yugo wasn't focused on that however. His eyes were fixed on the tank wreck, bodies strewn across and around it, machine gun nests empty. Directly in front of it, amidst the plumes of smoke, stood a figure.

Yugo watched as it ambled forwards, revealing the wiry frame of a man clad in an ornate purple uniform. His movements were slow and laboured, but he continued towards him regardless, paying no mind to the explosions carpeting the area. He was almost certainly a Fusion soldier, but why was he heading this way? Why wasn't he retreating with the rest of them?

Yugo didn't want to find out. He tried to limp on, physically dragging his bad leg in front of the other, but it was still no use. His ankle had seized up completely, refusing to go on. He looked back once more, only to find the soldier closing in on him, weapon drawn.

He sank to the floor, cursing his body for giving up on him. His curses turned to sobs as he realised he had no weapons to defend himself, having lost his rifle in the melee of the ambush.

The soldier was almost upon him. Through his tears, Yugo looked upon his face. Partially covered by thick violet locks, it was the face of a handsome young man. Any semblance of normality however, was lost on his truly horrifying expression. His mouth was twisted into an unnerving smile, undue pleasure evident in his grin. His eyes were hungry and fierce, almost predatory, his gaze penetrating right through Yugo and grasping at his very soul.

The man was stood over him now, revolver in hand. Yugo could see it glinting, light reflecting off its polished steel surface. It signalled the end for him. He held out his hands defensively and started to beg, praying the same tactic would work again.

Ignoring his pleas, the man bent down and grabbed him by the collar. He violently yanked him to his feet. Yugo cried out in pain as he was forced to stand on his bad ankle, the man's grin only widening. Holding him up with his free hand, he pushed the muzzle of his revolver up under his chin.

"Just when I thought all was lost… I spot _you_ ," he laughed maniacally. "I wasn't leaving before I got to kill at least one of you myself." His eye twitched with glee, giving him an even more frenzied look than before. "I would just love to play with you some more, but unfortunately… time's up."

He cocked the hammer of his revolver.

Yugo was screaming for him to let him go, but his pleas went unanswered.

"Goodnight, Synchro sc-"

The man's words were lost in a sharp whistling sound that had both men looking to the skies. Descending from the heavens, and heading right for them, was a stray mortar shell. They didn't have time to react. By the time they had realised what was happening, the shell had landed almost directly beside them, a few yards to their right.

Yugo felt the compression in the air as it detonated, sending a shockwave of pure energy their way. It hurtled towards them, knocking them from their feet and sending them flying into a nearby crater.

As the ground fell away and his world faded to black, all Yugo could hear was the voice of the violet haired soldier ringing in his ears…

 _Time's up._


	4. Alea Iacta Est

Chapter IV: Alea Iacta Est

 _14/05/1921 0121 hours_

Yuri's eyes fluttered open.

Above him, the night sky was painted a lambent white; flares flickering and dancing in and amongst the clouds. A fine drizzle blurred his vision, skewing the light until it dripped and spread. He blinked repeatedly, his eyes adjusting. The watercolours of the sky soon sharpened into focus. A wry smile formed on his lips.

 _So, I'm not dead_.

He lay still for a moment. Tilting his head side-to-side, he tried to get his bearings.

Judging by the slopes of earth either side of his peripherals and the water seeping through the back of his uniform, he was at the bottom of some kind of crater or hole. He dug his nails into his palms as he started to recall what had led him to this.

The whistling of the shells, the screams of his men as they lay dying… it soon came flooding back. He remembered how he had pushed on regardless, advancing alone towards his objective, the ground cracking and erupting around him. It was then that he had found that wounded Synchro soldier limping helplessly through the mud. After that, things were a little hazy.

One thing was for sure, he had lost all of his platoon and if he did somehow make it back to the Fusion line, he would likely lose his commission as an officer too. This didn't bother him too much, however. His comrades were replaceable, as was he. A position of command was equally as insignificant to him; titles and responsibility held little importance in the heat of battle.

No, what hurt the most was the sting of failure.

By failing to complete his mission, he had let himself down, let his country down, and worst of all, he had let General Akaba down. What's more, to his knowledge he hadn't even succeeded in adding another kill to his name.

He was a disgrace… but he was alive. Such fortune meant he was still useful to the Fusion state, giving him a chance at atonement. He could make up for his failures, and that's exactly what he intended to do.

Yuri splayed his hands in the puddle beneath him and pushed himself up into a sitting position. He checked himself over for any wounds, hoping that it would provide a clue as to how he ended up in the crater. He came up empty. The only thing that really hurt was his head, but there were no outward signs of trauma.

He could hear shouting and the exchange of rifle fire close by. The noise was loud and frenzied. Another flare soon went up above him, the crack of the gun and the resulting _whoosh_ catching him by surprise. A fresh volley of rifle fire followed it.

Yuri sighed. Both sides were going to make it extremely difficult to get back. Outside of this giant hole, he wouldn't stand a chance with the way things were at the moment. Tensions were bound to be high after the attempted raid and their failed counterattack. He would have to wait until things had calmed down, ideally once both sides had done firing flares and taking pot shots at each other.

He looked up at the side of the crater. From the looks of it, it was deep enough to keep him well hidden from what was going on on the surface. He could probably even safely stand up if he wanted to. At least that was something.

Rising carefully to his feet, he straightened his uniform out and shivered. It was much colder now. He glanced around him. There were a few bodies dotted around the crater, all in varying stages of decomposition. Some were half-buried in the dirt, some lay on top of it. Others only had a limb or two visible, the rest of them swallowed up in the thick mud.

One body in particular caught Yuri's eye. Slumped face down at the bottom of the slope, it looked to belong to that of a Synchro soldier. What alarmed Yuri, or rather delighted him, was that this soldier still seemed to be alive. Although he lay on his front, the distinct movement of his shoulders and back were a dead giveaway. He was still breathing.

Yuri slowly reached to his side, his fingers finding the holster that hung there. It was empty. Dread quickly took a hold of him, his mind racing.

 _His gun… what if he had lost it?_

He couldn't bear to lose _Venom_ , it was far too important to him. It may have just been an old service revolver, but to him, it was more than that. It was his only friend, his only companion; and besides his country, it was the only thing he had ever felt an attachment towards.

Panicking, he started to search around. He dropped to his knees to claw at the dirt, sifting through the mud with his hands. It was no use. Picking his head up, he scanned the ground desperately. It wasn't long before he spotted something. He stumbled over to the pool at the crater's centre and kneeled before what appeared to be a shaped bit of wood. It looked promising. He tugged on it, pulling it from the mud like the sword from the stone.

Sure enough, it was indeed a revolver. He turned it over in his hands, examining the notched handle closely. It was his.

Yuri breathed a sigh of relief and smiled to himself. Giving his weapon a quick clean with his sleeve, he held it at his side and turned his attention back to his earlier 'problem'. The soldier's body hadn't moved, and still showed minimal signs of life. An easy kill.

He marched over to it, his boots splashing up water as he went. Even with everything going on above and around him, he could make out the ragged breathing of the individual now at his feet. Judging by their physique, they were a young male; around average height and slim. A tuft of matted, soaking blue hair clung tightly to the back of his neck.

Bending down slowly, his weapon drawn, Yuri grasped the man's shoulder and violently pulled him over onto his back, revealing his face. He gasped at the sight.

"You…"

Yuri growled and pointed his weapon down at the man's head, his memory finally returning to him. This was the man that had got in his way, the wounded soldier he had failed to kill. It was because of him he had failed his mission. It was because of him he had ended up in this wretched hole. It was because of him-

"Please…" he whispered, looking past the muzzle of Yuri's weapon and into his eyes. "Don't…"

Yuri almost laughed. Cocking the hammer of his revolver, he smiled and shook his head. Second chances like these didn't come around too often.

He pulled the trigger.

 _Click_.

…

 _Click click click click_.

Yuri looked at his weapon, confused as to why it wasn't firing. He examined the barrel. The cylinder was clogged with mud, as too was the firing mechanism presumably. He sighed and slipped it back into its holster. He would have to do things the old-fashioned way.

Grabbing the man by the arm, who was now screaming for him to let go, he dragged him down the slope and into the middle of the crater, onto flat ground. He tried to resist, but Yuri was far too strong. Stamping on his wounded leg, the man howled in pain.

"I'm going to enjoy this."

Positioning himself above him, Yuri dropped to his knees, his legs falling either side of the man's hips. He pushed his weight down on his lower half, effectively trapping him. His arms flailed as Yuri leaned forwards and clasped his hands tightly around his neck.

Yuri hadn't killed someone like this in a long time, and he had sorely missed it. To him, there just seemed to be something so personal about it. Feeling the life leave their body as they slowly ran out of air… it felt so rewarding. It gave him confirmation that he had succeeded. That's what this was about, what he'd been taught. He was a weapon and his purpose was to kill- knowing he'd got the job done simply validated his achievement.

Yuri shifted his weight and leaned further forwards, pushing harder on the man's neck. It was then that he noticed how young the man was. He must have been no older than eighteen- the same age as Yuri. His face also held something of a resemblance to his own. His features were soft and delicate, like that of a child, and yet there was definitely a certain harshness there too. Unlike Yuri, he was rough at the edges, giving him a rugged, more mature look.

Strangled gasps escaped his now blue lips as Yuri's coiled hands squeezed tighter and tighter around his neck. Tears streamed from the corners of his eyes, mixing with the rain before rolling dolefully down the sides of his head.

Almost there.

Yuri pushed even harder, leaning into him until they were face-to-face. Their eyes met.

Yuri's breath caught in his throat.

Staring back at him were the most beautiful pair of eyes he had ever seen.

They were a stunning shade of blue; a sparkling aquamarine set against a canvas of pure white, blemished only by the thin red veins branching throughout. Death's final throes seemed to lend them a glaze of emotion, magnifying their brilliance and holding Yuri spellbound.

The world around him started to melt away; he could no longer hear the crack of rifles, nor smell the stench of death. The lashing rain and the sodden earth had disappeared, as had the bright sky above. Time had slowed, reality had twisted; nothing seemed to exist beyond the set of eyes in front of him.

They reminded him of the stars he'd looked upon as a child through General Akaba's telescope, and like all stars, they burned brightest at their very end. These eyes were nothing less than blue giants ready to go supernova, their light shining proudly in one last show of defiance.

Yuri felt something. He wasn't what it was. He had never felt it before. It was like a twinge in his chest, a shot of warmth to his heart.

His grip on the man's neck loosened.

 _What… what am I doing?_

Yuri blinked.

The world around him had returned, as had his senses. He could hear, he could smell, he could see. The strange feeling lingered in his chest. He ignored it.

What he couldn't ignore was the scratching sound the man was making with his nails in the dirt. Yuri re-tightened his grip. There was a gasping sound and a slight jerk in the man's shoulder. Yuri immediately knew something was wrong. He glanced at the man's right hand, the hand that had been clawing at the dirt. Clutched between the fingers was the barrel of pistol.

Yuri tried to react, but he couldn't. The loss of grip on his neck had given the man the chance to find a weapon, and ample opportunity for him to use it. With his remaining strength, the man brought the gun down on Yuri's head, its handle smashing against his skull with a loud crack.

Yuri felt nothing. He slumped over onto his side, his eyelids fluttering. He lay there expecting the curtain to come down once again, for the world to blacken.

But the darkness never came. Instead, he saw… _those eyes_.

As his head spun and his vision blurred, as flashes of reality and stills of the cosmos merged into one, he wondered how he had let it come to this. The words of General Akaba rang loud in his ears.

 _"Emotion, my dear Yuri, is the very heart of weakness. If you surrender yourself to the demons of sentiment and feeling, you will find no victory, only defeat."_

…had he already lost?


End file.
